


The First Hunger Games

by DiamondFanfic



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Pre-Hunger Games, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondFanfic/pseuds/DiamondFanfic
Summary: In a time where the Hunger Games are brand new, how do they play out? What happens, who wins, and what are the consequences?
Kudos: 2





	1. The First Reaping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zulera301](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zulera301/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hunger Games: The Victors' Chronicles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078365) by [Zulera301](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zulera301/pseuds/Zulera301). 



It’s the morning of the reaping, a new thing that the Capitol has just introduced. It still feels weird, talking about Districts and Capitols like they’re separate from us. Then again, most of what’s mentioned now is weird. We aren’t allowed to talk about anything from before District 13 went down. We aren’t allowed to go into another District - a girl called Poiuk found that hard when she got shot after walking out. Since then walls have been built, using our own electricity against us. 

The sun streams down into my eyes when I step onto the street. The hum of electricity sounds in my ears as I walk with everyone else to the centre of the District. 

“Why would they wake us this early, it’s unreasonable,” I hear an older man complain to his wife. She merely shrugs and mutters something about District 13. 

“Fukaya!” I spin around to see my brother running to catch up with me. 

“Hey,” I smile at him, patting him on the head. “What’s the rush Trey?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows at his scowl. 

“Hello? It’s Reaping Day?” he says, taking on the tone of a parent who had to over-explain everything. When I lift an eyebrow he sighs. “It’s all the teachers have been talking about. They keep saying to be on guard and not take anything for granted, especially friends and family.”

I laugh a little. “Lighten up Trey, all your teachers exaggerate everything anyway, I’m sure it will be fine.” He looks at me doubtfully before finally nodding and going quiet. 

When we reach the town square, we see a stage that had been obviously put together the night before. Numerous lights shine on the stage, cameramen, and a woman dressed in vibrant colours. Around me, people were murmuring.

“What is this?”   
“Who is that?”   
“What’s going on?”

These are the common catchphrases of District 5. 

Once everyone has entered the town square, the overly-flamboyant woman walks up to the microphone.

“Hello and good morning District 5,” the woman’s floaty tone washes over everyone’s heads, making them turn to face her. “Welcome to the first, annual, Hunger Games! I am Fable Wretfield and I am District 5’s host!” Her voice is too bright and cheery for 6 in the morning. People glare at her for assaulting both their eyes and ears. “In light of District 13’s downfall, the Capitol has called for a  _ reminder,  _ to be given to the Districts. I will pull out, at random, both a girl’s name and a boy’s name from the bowls next to me. They will be shipped to the Capitol and will face the tributes from the other Districts. The last one standing wins.”

Confused whispers breakout around us. 

“What does she mean ‘last one standing’?” a young looking girl asks her mother.

“I don’t know,” came her reply. “But it doesn't sound good.”

Fable walks over to a big glass bowl and puts her hand in. She swirls it around, moving it through the small slips of paper like they are water. When she withdraws her hand, it holds a piece of paper,  _ a name.  _

She walks back to the microphone and clears her throat. “The boy tribute is,” She pauses, letting anticipation for something build. “Fukaya Kerezaki!” Fable claps her hands and jumps a little.

“Well, do come on stage boy,” she says. People around me move away, leaving me exposed to Fable’s ice blue eyes. Trey touches my elbow and nods at the stage. Regaining my common sense I put one foot in-front of the other and walk to the stage.

Once I’m standing there, I turn and survey the people. Trey’s found my mother and has walked towards her, leaning against her like he used to do. 

Fable shakes my hand and then walks over to the girl’s bowl. After repeating the same ritual from last time, she mutters a name. “Trishiya Wretfield,” Fable’s hands shake. Her bottom lip quivers as Trishiya walks to the stage. She embraces her, stroking her hair. A single tear rolls down her cheek as Trishiya stands next to me. “Th-those are the tributes from District 5, your day may resume as normal until 3 o’clock sharp.” Fable’s voice is definitely  _ not  _ sharp reading that sentence from her pale blue palm card. She again turns to her  _ daughter? niece?  _ and holds her close to her chest. 

_ What does she know about these games that we don’t?  _ This is the question I ponder over until 3. During work I burn myself twice when I’m not paying attention, the electrical wires wrapping around my wrist. 

Through-out the day I have numerous claps on the back, a few ‘good luck’s, and when I return home, I receive a bone-crushing hug from my distraught mother.

“Good luck baby, don’t let them take you alive,” she says with tears in her eyes. That second, two people in white uniforms march into my house and grab me by the arm, hauling me away from my family.

“NO!” I scream at the closing door. “Let go of me!” However they don’t loosen their grip, just march me back to the town square.

Except they don’t. Instead, they drag me to the other side of town, to the train station.  _ Really, because I don’t spend enough time here.  _ My co-workers watch with curiosity and judgment as I’m shoved and pulled past them. 

“Good luck Fukaya,” one of my friend’s murmurs. I flash her a brief smile before I’m torn away, out of their line of sight. One of the uniformed men push me harshly on the back, making me groan in pain. 

“Stand up,” he says fiercely. I rub my knees and legs as I stand on the shaky platform.

The train pulls up, but I’m not allowed on yet. Trishiya isn’t here. Despite straining my ears, I can’t make out a single word the white covered men say. It feels like ages before a bedraggled Trishiya comes into sight.

“You will be penalised dearly girl,” one of her handlers says. Trishiya shakes and bows her head, hiding behind her curly brown hair. 

Neither of us speak a word as we are hauled on board. That is, until we are locked in a room with just us and a long fancy table.

“Well, hi,” I say awkwardly, looking briefly at her dark eyes.

“Hello,” after a pause she continues. “You’re Fukaya right? Call me Trish.”

“Right, Trish..” the name bounces in my mouth, I let the sh linger on my tongue as another person walks in.

“Fable!” Trish yells as she runs into her arms. I’m glad she says her name, because I wouldn’t have had any idea who this was, this was not the same woman that was on the stage. 

“Hi Trish,” Fable’s soft voice mutters into her hair. It’s less annoying in the small room, more intimate than the front she had put on earlier. After a few seconds embracing each other, Fable pulls away. 

“Fukaya, Trish, it’s dinner time.”

*

I’m escorted down to the back of the train by what I now know are Peacekeepers. They stop in-front of a door, which I assume is mine. When I open it, what feels like hundreds of smells rise into my nose.  _ Rose, salt, gardenia, caramel… _ I list a few in my mind. I breathe in again, deeper this time. I concentrate on each smell as it passes through me, recognising some from before 13’s fall.

“Well, do come in then,” says an impatient sounding female. My head snaps up at her voice, my eyes scanning the room. There’s a large blue bed set in the middle of the even bigger room, there’s a window, a desk, a huge closet, and two joltingly colourful Capitol people. 

“Do sit,” says the same woman, impatience ringing through her voice. I do as instructed and sit in a large, comfortable gold coloured chair. 

“I’m Klio, your head stylist,” the impatient woman explains. “This is Jeremya, he’s my helper.” Jeremya meets my black eyes with his grey ones and smiles. They both nod at my reflection in the mirror, and then Klio instructs me to stay still. I’m like a statue as Jeremya’s fingers dance over my skin, applying dark powders and smoothing out my ‘imperfections’. When he steps back I open my eyes. My reflection blinks back at me. My skin is flawless, my eyes have been rimmed with silver lines, and my eyebrows have been plucked into magnificent arches. Jeremya catches my eyes and smirks.

“I’m thinking blue,” he states, talking to Klio.

“Yes yes, I was thinking the same.” She walks over to the large closet and pulls out a cobalt blue gown, lifting the soft fabric to my face. “Perfect,” she murmurs, sighing in happiness.

Klio leaves the room, giving me privacy as I dress. Or, as much privacy as I’m allowed apparently.

I raise an eyebrow at Jeremya. “Shouldn’t you be outside?” He chuckles, stepping over to me.

“You’ll be thankful for my help in a second 5.”

Huffing, I walk over to the bed, laying the gown on it. I pull my shirt over my head and watch as Jeremya’s eyes very quickly scan over me and then retreat. It’s my turn to chuckle. Jeremya’s head snaps up, his gaze intense. 

“Need help?”

I shake my head, undoing the fly on my pants. I push them slowly past my thighs, letting my brown skin flow out. When they get to my knees I sit down, pushing them down over my calves. Jeremya’s eyes have darkened, looking at me with pure lust. I smirk as I pick up the blue gown and stand up.

“Wanna help me?” I ask, my tone low. Jeremya walks briskly over to me, putting his hands on my hips. 

“I’d love to,” he replies huskily. He tilts my head up to face him, before lowering his lips to mine. We both groan on contact and push into each other. His arms move around to my back, holding me tightly to him. I press my lips up to meet his, wrapping my arms around his neck. As he detaches his lips from mine and goes down to my neck, a knock comes from the door.

“Are you almost ready? We still need to do his hair,” Klio calls.

We both curse as Jeremya disentangles himself from me.

“Another time sweet-heart,” he drawls. He picks up the gown again and lifts it over my head. The cool fabric flutters down my body, hanging loosely. Jeremya groans at the sight of me and forcefully takes a step back. He gestures to the chair and I sit down again. Jeremya calls out, letting Klio know she can come in. She walks over to my seat and picks up a few frightening utensils.

“This might hurt,” Klio warns as she presses one into my scalp. I whimper as she moves it back, pulling it through my hair.

* 

“You can breathe now, it’s over,” Jeremya says teasingly. I force my eyes to open and my face to unscrunch. In the mirror, my black hair has been cut off. All that’s left is a patch on the top. The sides of my head have been ‘shaved’ as Jeremya said. Klio shaved lines into patterns along where my hair goes long again. She brandishes a comb from nowhere and slides it through my neat hair.

“Perfect,” she breathes. “It’s time for dinner now.”

*

When they said dinner, I expected dinner, not a feast. When I walk into the room at the front of the train, my eyes immediately land on the platters of fancy looking food. Then they look over to Jeremya. He’s changed his outfit, now he’s wearing a tight fitting white shirt and black pants. The contrast between the white shirt and his black skin is tantalising, I want to run my fingers down his chest. I shake myself and sit down opposite him, next to Trishiya. 

“Well, dig in,” I hear someone say, probably Fable. I don’t need to be told twice. I grab the plate in-front of me and scoop big portions of everything onto it. Klio laughs lightly at the amount of food, while Jeremya lifts an eyebrow. 

“Can you eat all that?” he asks teasingly. To prove that I can, I lift a big piece of something into my mouth.  _ Beef. _ I realise, sighing in delight. My eyes shut, savouring the taste. I don’t remember the last time I had beef, let alone when I’ll have it again. I steadily eat my meal, stuffing myself so much I must’ve doubled in weight. 

I actually groan when dessert arrives.

“More?” I sputter out, both delighted and disbelieving. I haven’t seen this much food for ages. Now everyone laughs, including who I’m guessing are Trishiya’s stylists. I take this opportunity to look at Trishiya, see what she’s wearing. I almost gasp. Her curly hair has been braided back into a crown, with soft curls framing her face. Her pale yellow dress wraps around her neck down to her knees, clinging to her perfectly. Jeremya coughs, when I meet his gaze he looks fierce,  _ jealous.  _ I smirk to myself before lifting a spoonful of chocolate mousse to my lips. I moan softly, fluttering my eyelashes. Jeremya breathes in sharply before looking away from me again. I grin to myself, glad to have affected him. 

*

“Now Fukaya and Trish, we need to discuss training,” Fable informs us after dinner. I look around the table and see the stylists nodding. “Since none of us  _ really _ know what you’ll be up against  – ” Fable glances at the others, confirming this information “ – the training has to be broad and intensive.” 

“What are you good at?” Klio asks. I have to think before replying.

“Evading hard questions.”

Jeremya laughs under his breath, flashing me a smile. “No, what skills do you have with surviving or fighting.”

Now I really have to think. Trishiya doesn’t.

“I’m good at manipulating electricity and designing traps.” 

Fable smiles. “Yes, that you are.” The shine in her eyes makes Trish smile.

“Well I’m good at sneaking up on people, and I’m decent with a bow,” I get out before I can stop myself. Trish and Fable turn to look at me, displeased. 

“That’s a start,” Klio sighs. “Training starts tomorrow at 7 sharp, don’t be late.”

That signals the end of dinner. I get up and walk back to my room, preparing for a restless night.

*

_ Knock knock knock.  _ I jolt upright, groaning as the bright light hits my eyes. 

“What?” I say groggily, half asleep. 

“It’s 7,” Jeremya says, peeking his head around the now open door. I groan again as I realise I have to get up. Jeremya laughs and sets something on my bed. “Your training outfit, it’s black lycra.” I rub my eyes and peer at it, registering only the long sleeves. 

When Jeremya leaves again, I force my limbs to pick me up and get dressed.

*

After breakfast, which is apple juice and oatmeal,  _ I guess they don’t want us to get a stitch,  _ I’m lead to the top of the train. 

As I approach the small group, my eyes glance over at the training equipment.  _ This’ll be a fun morning. _

“Nice of you to join us Fukaya,” Fable greets sarcastically. “Trish has already done half, you better catch up.” I groan and turn to Klio to explain training.

“5 laps, don’t worry it's not a lot, 50 sit-ups, 50 push-ups, 5 laps –” that’s where I stop paying attention. Luckily Klio doesn’t notice and she finishes her instructions. I nod along while thinking about what’s to come if the training is like this. 

After she finishes her instructions, I drag myself to the running track, my legs protesting my every step. I take a deep breath and start running. 

*

Fire. That’s what my lungs feel. Fire. 

I take gulping breaths as I finish training for the day. It’s been 3 hours, and my muscles are practically dead. After repeating the basic fitness course multiple times, I worked on archery and sneak attacks, honing my skills Fable said. I remember her little  _ encouragements _ resentfully. 

_ “If you train well you’ll get dessert; you need fattening up.” “Think of the muscle you’ll gain after this!” “Maybe you’ll have a chance of winning if you improve ten-fold.”  _ By the end of training I wanted to kill her. Any kind thoughts I may have had have gone out the window.

I step into the shower and press one of three buttons.  _ Top for locks, middle for water, bottom for lights.  _ The water is set to the perfect temperature the second I step in, it cools and heats as I want, as if it can sense my needs. I laugh bitterly to myself, it probably can. 

*

It’s been three days. I’m standing in the middle of the train, Jeremya on my right, Klio on my left. Outside the windows, the Capitol comes into view. 

My eyes widen as they take it in. The tall buildings have gotten taller, the colourful people are more colourful, and the privilege they have has increased. I can’t help scowling at passersbys, even though they can’t change their situation anymore than I can change mine. I only just stop myself complaining like a toddler. Instead, I prepare myself for huge crowds and people analysing me. 

“You’ll do fine,” Jeremya breathes into my ear. I can’t help smiling and stepping closer to him, revelling in his closeness. His arms wrap around my bright yellow clothed torso.

“Let go him! You’ll ruin the pattern!” Klio scolds. 

“What pattern? He’s a giant lightning bolt! I don’t think cutting him in half would make that unrecognisable.”

Klio scoffs, crossing her arms. “Well, just be careful then,” she sighs. Jeremya playfully salutes her before stepping away from me slightly. 

“Is it necessary to be bright yellow?” I childishly ask him, my voice muffled by my arm.

“Yes,” he gives me a fond smile. “Every tribute needs to be easily placed to their district, at least for the chariot ride.” I groan slightly, smoothing my hands down the obnoxious fabric. I don’t speak anymore, just step closer to Jeremya again and enjoy his embrace.

_ “Passengers, get ready to exit the train,”  _ the overhead speaker says. The three of us instinctively step closer to the exit doors. 

“Remember, I’m rooting for you,” Jeremya tells me, brushing hair off my costume.

“I know you are,” I reply, not attempting to hide my smile. He leans down and gently pecks my lips, causing heat to flush to my cheeks. The doors open with a sliding sound, making us jump apart. Klio laughs again.

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you too.”

“It’s worth the world,” I smile at her warmly. The Peacekeepers come up to us then, forcefully pushing me out the door.

“Good luck!” Jeremya yells at me. I barely hear it as the throng of people’s voices gets into my ears.

They’re so loud, the people from the Capitol. So loud, in every way. Half of them have dressed up and are holding signs supporting their favourites.  _ They televised the reaping? Of course they did.  _ I barely contain my disgust. None of the tributes know what’s going on, nor does anyone from the Districts, but apparently everyone in the Capitol does. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it feels like a punch to the stomach.  _ Of course we’re not equal, even in knowledge of our own futures. _ At that moment my eyes catch sight of Trish and Fable. I give Trish a brief smile as I have nothing against her; just against her aunt. 

“You nervous?” I ask as I approach.

“Don’t talk to her,” Fable snaps. I recoil, unsure of what to do. Trish avoids eye contact and surveys the other tributes. I do too, my eyes scanning over them. Each of the Districts are obvious, for they’re all dressed to match. District 12 are literal chunks of coal, District 8 are dressed as Peacekeepers for the textile industry, District 4 are fish, and District 1 shine so brightly covered in jewels that you can’t make out the tribute’s faces.

My eyes meet with one of the Tributes from District 3. They almost match me and Trish, with their gadget costumes. I instantly like the female tribute, sensing intelligence radiating from her. She smiles at me, maybe we’ll have an alliance. 

Fable’s hands land squarely on my back, shoving me forward. “Were you not listening? On the horse  Kerezaki.” Oh, so she’s using my surname then. I do as she says, stepping up to the black horse. It’s mane has been died with streaks of yellow, matching our costumes. I smile slightly and pet the horse as I sit on it. It basically ignores me, but turns it’s head slightly so it can see me. 

*

Like clockwork the horses ride out in formation. District 1 takes the lead with immense applause, followed by District 2. It’s kind of funny, how fast the applause dies. After District 3 it basically stops except for polite claps. Riding out after 4 is embarrassing. I see signs with Trish’s name on them, but none of mine.  _ Oh well, they don’t need to like me.  _

As my horse comes to a stop, the applause suddenly picks up. District 8 has started the ride. People are chanting and cheering, even whooping, for the male tribute.

“Jufa! Jufa! Jufa!” The Capitol people are going crazy. Everyone else looks confused. That’s when I remember that Jufa Kelizo’s father was running for President before 13’s fall. While it was uncommon for a president to be elected from a district, Kelizo was a very popular choice. It was almost a shame when he dropped dead in the middle of the night.

Once Jufa’s horse had pulled to a stop, I glanced at him. He looked nice enough, a big build too. I send a smile his way, hoping for another alliance partner. He quickly shuts that thought down when he snarls at me, his neck tendons popping out. I turn back to face the front and wait for District 12 to finish. 

“Hello Tributes, and welcome to the Capitol!” the President calls out. I note how he doesn’t say good morning. People cheer, but reservedly. A few people stay silent. “You all know why you’re here. District 13 fought against the caring Capitol, now the other Districts need a reminder.” The chill in his voice creeps me out.  _ How did  _ he  _ become president? _ “With only one victor, there’s promised to be trust, betrayal, blood, and entertainment!” he bellows the last word, letting his voice boom through the stands before continuing. “Thank you for participating in the Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour.” The tributes all look startled. That didn’t sound encouraging, it sounded like a death threat.

Just as the president is about to leave the stage, a man starts running down the road.

“Stop this! It is cruel and horrible! They’re just kids!”

The president is rushed away and Peacekeepers storm out. The man looks like he’s about to continue when people start booing him. That’s when the gunshot rings out, silencing the Capitol people and the man lying dead on the floor.


	2. The First Reaping: Part Two

_ That’s when the gunshot rings out, silencing the Capitol people and the man lying dead on the floor. _

*

Everything goes silent in the aftermath of the gunshot. Then chaos erupts. People scream and others attempt to rush to the body. Peacekeepers flood into the crowd, blocking people’s paths. The tributes and I are hurried out, down a long corridor next to the stage. We dismount our horses and run into safety. Behind us, more gunshots ring out, screams filling our ears.

“Turn right!” calls one of the Peacekeepers. Everyone does as they say, turning right sharply. The tunnel goes on forever, with all the tributes close on one-another’s heels. Eventually, a bright light becomes visible. My feet pound against the pavement, the thuds bursting my eardrums. 

“Wanna team up?” comes a voice to my left.  _ Well, at least they’re making the most of this.  _ All order from before had been lost, tributes becoming just tributes, not districts. I turn to face them, catching my breath before looking them over. We’re near the front, so they’re a decent runner, they carry a ceremonial pickaxe  _ District 2.  _

“Yeah, okay,” I get out, breathing heavily. They grin at me and grab my arm, dragging me further forward.

“Good, this is the first test.”   
“What,” I pant, the oxygen burning my throat.

“The first test, to see who can run fast enough for an extended period of time. If an alliance member can’t do that what’s the point of an alliance.”

I nod, or attempt to, almost tripping in the process. They laugh and drag me faster.

When we reach the front of the line, the exit is visible.  _ A pool. _ The District 2 tribute jumps sideways just in time, avoiding the watery embarrassment. They jump left, I jump right, we both dodge it. The others behind us aren’t so lucky.

“Aah! My gown!” calls an angered female’s voice, probably District 1. We keep running, leaving them behind, we don’t stop until we reach a door.

“It’s locked!” I say, banging on the door.

“Stand aside,” a Peacekeeper says, sliding a keycard through the keypad. The door opens with a click. “Inside, take the first left, go up the stairs and follow the signs to the training area.”

Almost before he’s finished speaking, District 2 grabs my wrist and pulls me along with them.

“What’s your name?” I finally ask them as we climb the stairs.

“Aryxa, Aryxa Hipothy.”

“I’m Fukaya Kerezaki.”   
“I know.”   
That causes me to pause. How would they know that? I’m about to ask, but then we reach the training center and my breath gets taken away.

It’s huge. Like,  _ huge _ . The ceiling is black glass, in a geometric pattern consisting of only triangles. The floor is a red running track, with different weapon and skill stations in the middle. There are black training uniforms sitting on a stand at the door. Aryxa and I both take one and get changed quickly. As we enter the training area, a voice from the loud-speaker rings out.

“Hello, and welcome to training! Feel free to choose a station and train in this room for two hours max! See you tomorrow.”

I turn to Aryxa and raise my eyebrows. “Where d’you wanna start?”

They raise their hand to their chin, thinking. “Running. It would be good to improve on stealth a bit.”

I nod in agreement and we make our way to the instructor.

“Do three laps, then report back to me.”

We start running, side by side. “I take it back, I don’t agree, this was a terrible idea,” I groan.  _ Why would we choose running after just running for our lives! _

Aryxa chuckled. “This will pay off I promise.”

I merely groaned again and begged my legs not to give out. 

*

My leg’s didn’t give out, but they did complain in the form of going numb half way through lap 2. I have to stop. Aryxa doesn’t let me.

“Pl-please. Come on, my legs are numb!” I say in-between gulping breaths.

“I don’t care, keep running 5.”   
I do, but I do it with many complaints.

“Hey, look over there,” Aryxa says. The other tributes have started to file in and choose a station. There’s a girl throwing axes, another painting herself into grass. Everywhere I look I see skilled tributes,  _ competitors, allies.  _ We keep running, completing the lap. My legs are still numb, my lungs on fire, my eyes even start watering, but I run side by side with Aryxa until the last lap is done.

“H-how many miles was th-that?” I ask the instructor.

She smiles as she replies. “Five.”

My eyes bug out. Despite everything, I feel good. Pride floods through me. I smile in return.

“What now captain?” Aryxa asks.

“Dodgeball.”

_ Are you kidding me?  _ Apparently she’s not. She said she’d heard that we were increasing stealth and decided to test our dodging. I sigh in defeat as I take my position.

“This is purely dodging, no catching or hitting the balls is allowed. If you get hit the round ends.”

We nod in understanding and brace ourselves. 

“Ready. Go!”

The balls fly at us, coming from every angle. I duck and turn, feeling the occasional ball graze my hair. 

“Good job! 30 seconds in!”

I look over at Aryxa and grin. They go to do the same, but misjudge a ball. It hits them straight in the face and knocks them to the floor. I look over at them but keep dodging the incoming balls. Aryxa put their hand to their head and stood back up shakily.

“You alright?” I call over the thumping of the balls.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” I frown at them slightly.

“You don’t sound too good.”   
“I’ll be fine, just a slight bump to the head.”   
I continue frowning but concentrate on the flying balls. I duck just in time for one to scrape past my ear. Another one comes launching towards me and I jump left. The instructor throws another ball, catching me on the leg before I can react. She blows a whistle and the balls stop going everywhere. 

“Good job 5, 1 minute 2.”

I smile at myself.  _ Not too shabby. _

“Hey, I was wondering if I could join you.”

I spin around to face the voice. “Oh, you’re the District 3 girl right?”

She nods in assent. “Yeah, my name’s Haylie Kora.”

“Fukaya Kerezaki,” I offer, narrowing my eyes slightly. “What do you want?” I have to ask, despite wanting to pair up, I need to make sure her intentions are good. 

“I want to team up – with you and 2.”

I look to Aryxa. 

“Ok,” they say hesitantly. “I’m Aryxa Hipothy.”

“I know,” Haylie smiles at them. “I talked to your partner tribute, she didn’t seem to like you.”

Aryxa scoffed. “You can say that again.”

A smile breaks out on my face before I can stop it. “This will be great, we’re like the three musketeers!” They both laugh at my joke, their eyes smiling. “Who wants to choose the next station, I think we’re done here.”

Haylie answers first. “I say we go over to close-up combat, it’ll probably be useful.” The three of us walk over, despite my own doubts about it. I don’t think I’ll spend too much time fighting anyone.

After about seven minutes, my doubts are confirmed. “I might go over to the archery station, this one isn’t for me.” Haylie and Fukaya nod, telling me to go ahead. 

“I didn’t want to go to that station anyway,” Fukaya informs me. Haylie agrees, adding that some diversity will be good. 

I make my way towards the archery station and see Jufa already there. I sigh to myself, determined to go through with my training, despite  _ obstacles. _

Without speaking to the instructor I pick up a bow and a sheath of arrows. I survey the targets and choose a medium-skilled one. Turning to the side, I nock the arrow and prepare to shoot.

“Ha! Who’d have thought a 5 would know how to shoot,” Jufa says, jeering. I block him out and focus on the target. When I release the string the arrow whizzes for the air, landing in the red. Jufa’s sneer drops a little, but picks up again quickly.

“A red score won’t help in the arena, you’ll be dead in an instant.”

I get ready to shoot again. Ignoring his remarks. Just as I’m about to release the string for the second time, Jufa knocks into me. My arrow goes flying into the roof.

“Do you mind?” I say coolly, losing my patience.

“Not at all,” he says back innocently. I want to punch him.

“That’s enough,” the instructor says calmly. “A tribute can’t harm the other in training, it’s against the rules.”   
“Oh yeah, and what happens if we do?” Jufa crowds into the instructor, trapping her small body to the wall. She tries to answer, but it comes out as choked off whispers.

“Leave her alone!” I yell, lunging at him. Our bodies collide as I pin him to the floor. I’m about to punch him when hands wrap under my arms, pulling me up.

“Get off him Fukaya!” Haylie scolds. I stand up and spit at Jufa’s face.

“Did you see that?!” Jufa exclaims, standing up again. 

“We all did, but you deserved it. You’re excused from training.” 

Our heads snap to someone. They’re tall, slightly chubby.  _ Capitol.  _

“I’m the Head Games Keeper, call me Riqu,” the man introduces himself. I assume Riqu’s his surname, but Capitol people  _ are _ weird. We take it in turns to say our names, Haylie and Aryxa having joined me. 

“Well, good luck you three. You’re going to need it,” and that he’s gone, leaving us behind him, staring.

“I should probably go shower,” I say, wiping dirt from my knees. 

“Yeah, our time’s up anyway,” Aryxa says. We nod at each other and then Haylie.

“See you tomorrow,” I say to her. She nods back.

“Get enough sleep,” she calls out as Aryxa and I exit the training center.

We have to ask one of the staff for directions to the rooms. He just points at a sign and points right after holding up 2 fingers.  _ Second door on right. _ We thank him and make our way to the rooms.

“Could he not talk or something?” I ask Aryxa. They shrug back.

“I don’t think so, it looked like his tongue was missing.”

“Oh.”

We walk in silence from then on, both digesting the information. When we get to the second right door we enter a long hallway. There are 12 doors, each a dark wood with a number inscribed. I walk to the third door and attempt to open it.

“It’s locked,” I say, rattling the handle.

“It needs to read your face, look into it.” I turn to my right, looking at the guy who’d just left his room.  _ District 4.  _

“Thanks,” I say. I look into the scanner that’s where the peep hole would be and hear a click. When I turn the handle now, the door opens smoothly. I nod at the guy and he leaves before anything else can be said.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” I say to Aryxa.

“Yeah, see ya.”

I enter my room and breathe in sharply when I see how big it is. The floorboards are dark cherry to match the red feature wall. The ceiling stretches up over the bed, emphasised by a chandelier.  _ They’ve spared no expense.  _ I walk over to the bed and strip myself of clothes, tucking myself into bed. As I close my eyes, my new friend’s faces flash before my eyelids.  _ Goodnight Aryxa, goodnight Haylie. _

*

Over the next week, we train as much as possible. We all excel with sneak attacks and traps, but Haylie and Aryxa can’t do long distance attacks. I can’t do close-up though, so it evens it out. Today is the last day we can train before the interviews tonight. Riqu will be the interviewer, I overheard Fable tell Trish about him. His surname is Flickerman, he’s 24, and he loves art and music.  _ A strange profession for a creative type. _ Regardless, all the tributes are busy preparing for their personal skill score. It’s out of 12, although the mentors are estimating most will get sixes, especially since this is the first year. 

It’s the day of the scoring, that’s what we’ve been calling it at least. “Good luck!” I call to Aryxa as he disappears into the room. All the tributes are lined up in a long room, waiting for their turn. I would be sitting next to Haylie, but the tributes have been sectioned off into girls and boys, sitting on opposite sides of the room. Talking is banned anyway, the Peacekeepers are pacing the center of the room, stopping any and all communication. I sigh to myself, surveying the other tributes. Numerous are wearing bored expressions, others are either homicidal looking or friendly and open. I make eye-contact with Haylie and roll my eyes. She exhales quickly, holding back her laugh. I grin at her and wiggle my eyebrows. The Peacekeepers reprimand her when laughter bursts from her. “Sorry,” I mouth, shrugging. She glares playfully and ‘casually’ brings her hand up to her neck, closing around it. I smile at her again, glad to be friends.

It takes about 5 minutes for Aryxa to emerge again from the room. When they do, there’s a smirk on their face. I only just stop myself from asking what they’d done, they can tell me after.

The Peacekeepers march over to Haylie, pulling her up from the bench.

“I  _ can  _ stand on my own thanks,” she snaps at them. They let go of her and she walks to the door, disappearing through it. I sigh and resign myself to boredom.

*

Haylie walks out of the room with a huge smile on her face. She looks like she’s trying hard to hide it, but it still comes through.  _ She must’ve done very well. _ As she’s walking past me, she leans down slightly and whispers in my ear. “Stay on guard.” 

*

When it’s my turn to enter the room, I get up and walk to the door. I don’t hesitate before I open it and walk inside.

Silence. That’s what I’m greeted with. I look around the room. Bouncy but solid floor, tall ceilings, long. The scorers and Riqu are sitting in a raised section, holding notepads and food. Around the room, different weapons and targets are set up, with other supplies lining the walls.

I walk over to the archery station and pick up an ash wood bow. It’s slim, fitting well in my hand. I run my fingers slowly up it, feeling the smooth wood against them. I pick up a sheath of arrows and walk over to the targets. I stand sideways to the scorers and raise my bow. I load an arrow and breathe in. When I release the string, the arrow flies gracefully into the target, just missing the bull’s eye. I smile slightly, silently congratulating myself on my improvement.  _ I guess training daily  _ does  _ help.  _ I laugh quietly before taking aim again. This time, the arrow hits the bull’s eye straight on. I refrain from jumping or smiling too wide,  _ let them think this is my normal standard.  _ I walk confidently over to the dexterity station. It’s marked by a blue line that forms a rectangle. When I enter the area, the line glows a brighter blue and glass walls come up from the floor. I walk over to the button labelled ‘start’ and slam my hand onto it. Blue lights glow in the corners, and balls start firing at me from the far wall. I jump away from one, twisting my body in opposite directions. I stay there for what feels like ages. Balls fire at me, I dodge them, ducking and jumping. The scorers seem to like this whenever I look over at them. A few are leaning forward, holding their chins in their hands. Some are taking notes, others just watching. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my neck, cooling the heating skin. Pants fly out of my mouth, burning my throat. My heart hammers in my aching chest, but still I dodge. My limbs are on fire, twisting and moving all over the place. Then all the balls drop to the ground and no more fire out of the machine.

“Your time is up, head to dinner,” Riqu calls as the glass walls fall back into the floor.

_ Only the interview left, then the games begin. _ I smile to myself and wipe sweat from the back of my neck and my forehead. I walk to my room and get changed, then I meet with the other tributes for a rare group dinner.

*

I’ve been told by Aryxa and Haylie that my mentor is meant to be coaching me for the interview, help me choose an angle. Unfortunately for me, Fable doesn’t really like me - at all. I’ve been going to Jeremya and Klio - who joined us in the training center a day later - for help, but there’s only so much they can do.

“You want to be  _ charming, _ ” Jeremya tells me for what has to be the seventh time this hour. 

“I’m trying! Being charming doesn’t naturally come to us all,” I huff. I’ve done this too many times.

Jeremya pouts at me. “Oh baby, you  _ are  _ charming.” Then he sighs and changes angle. “Well, if you can’t be charming, be bad.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. He sits up straighter and grins. “You know, seductive!  _ Desirable. _ ”

I roll my eyes at him. “Whatever.”

“See! You’re already doing it!” I scowl at his laughter. “Just try, for me?” The puppy dog eyes. I hate those puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.”

Over the next hour Jeremya teaches me how to be bad. He corrects my posture, which hurts my back. He makes me smolder my eyes. “How even?!” He even changes my hair so that it covers one eye. Just as I think we’re done, Jeremya stands up and walks to the closet. 

“Put this on.”

I take the clothing from his hands and run it through my fingers.  _ Leather. _ I stand up and slide my arms into it. It hugs me,  _ squeezes  _ in some places. I like it though, it makes me feel powerful. Grinning, I turn to Jeremya. I raise one eyebrow and wait for his approval. He holds up one finger and disappears again. When he comes back he’s holding dark glasses. I slip them on and turn back to face him. He visibly swoons. 

“Oh my gosh, really?” I laugh. 

“Look in the mirror!” he says defensively. I turn to study myself in the newly-installed floor-length mirror. My eyes widen and my eyebrows raise, this time in shock. I look,  _ tough.  _ Like someone you’d warn your siblings about. 

“Wow,” I say under my breath.

“You’re welcome you’re welcome,” Jeremya says laughing. I throw a pillow at his head. “Hey!”

“You called for it!”

“True.” We both laugh as we step towards each other, his arms wrapping around me. I sigh, tucking my head into his chest. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other. I sniff his cherry-red shirt, smelling oranges, and hair gel, and  _ him. _

“Come on you two! Time to go!” Klio bursts through the door in a dark blue evening gown. “Really, you two can’t go one second without the other touching you.” Jeremya and I break apart guiltily. We both mutter apologies. “No, don’t, it’s cute,” and with that she’s gone again, waiting outside.

“That woman,” Jeremya says with a smile on his face. I grin at him and we both walk out to join Klio.

“Just be calm, remember your points, and get the Games Keeper to like you, he controls the games.”   
“Thanks Klio, I’ll do fine,” I reassure her.

“I’m sure you will, but this is really important, you don’t kno–”

“Lay off him Klio, you worry too much,” Jeremya interrupts. She sighs but plasters a smile on her face. 

“I know, I’m just nervous for him.”   
“You don’t need to be, it’ll be fine,” I say, looking her in the eyes. She nods as we come to the door.

“I would wish you luck, but I don’t think you need it,” Jeremya smirks at me.

“Thank you baby,” I chuckle. “I’ll see you later.”   
“Of course,” he leans down and kisses me gently. I pull away and see my reflection mirrored in his eyes. Before I change my mind, I break free from him and walk through the door, closing it behind me. I breathe in, steadying my nerves. I nod-jump and then walk down the black corridor until I reach the Tribute’s seating area.

“Hey!” calls out Haylie. I return the greeting and look past her to Aryxa. 

“How are you? Nervous?” I ask them. Aryxa scoffs.

“Not at all.”

“Hey, I actually need to tell you something later, it’s about the games,” Haylie says, concern painting her features. As I’m about to respond, Peacekeepers walk down the aisles, guiding tributes to their seats.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys later!” I call as I’m guided away. Haylie looks scared for a second before she smoothes over her features. Now I’m worried. She gulps as she sits down. Then the opening theme plays, signalling the beginning of the interviews.

*

The first three interviews go by slowly. The boys go first as they were scored second. They start with District 1 and move down the line, this will be a long night.

“Please welcome Aryxa Hipothy from District 2!” announces Riqu, his voice echoing around the hall. Aryxa appears from behind the side stage, walking over to sit in a chair. The stage lights shine on their hair, highlighting their face.

“So Aryxa, tell us a bit about yourself.”

Aryxa pauses, thinking it over. “Well, I like rock-climbing–”   
“That makes sense, since District 2 is the stone district.”

Aryxa smiles. “Yeah, I’ve been doing it since I was little.”   
“That could be helpful in the arena, don’t underestimate any skill,” Riqu leans forward, resting an arm on his knee. “What’s your passion? The thing that drives you?”

“Being the best version of myself possible. I believe that right now, that means being fierce and dangerous, I want to return home to my siblings.” Aryxa says this with a determined face, their features set like stone. 

“That’s very inspirational. Now, the last question,” Riqu pauses, looking around the building at everyone’s faces, then into the cameras, to the people at home. “Do you think you’d be able to betray your friends? If the three of you were the last ones standing?” The cameras zoom in on Aryxa’s face, as well as Haylie’s and mine. 

“What kind of question is that? I would never betray my friends,” they snap, anger clear on their face. 

Riqu merely smiles. “That’s time up folks! Thank you for your time Aryxa, may the games be in your favour.”

Aryxa shakes his hand with their forehead creased. When they leave the stage, contempt is clearly displayed on their face.

“What kind of sick bastard–”

“Be careful what you say,” Haylie says to them as they return to their seat. Aryxa sighs and sits down again. 

“Put your hands together for Haylie Kora of District 3!” Riqu bellows, unfazed by Aryxa’s mood.

Haylie practically skips on stage, making her dress fan out around her.

“So, Haylie, how are you tonight?” Riqu asks, genuinity falling from his mouth.

Haylie giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m good Riqu, thanks for asking.”

I blink in confusion, my forehead creasing.  _ What the hell is she playing at? _

“Do you have a special someone back home?” Riqu inquires, the audience cheers.

“No, I don’t,” Haylie replies, blushing and hiding her face in her hands. Riqu gasps in astonishment.

“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you!” 

Haylie mutters her thanks, then Riqu changes the subject. “What’s your favourite hobby?”

Haylie pauses to think. “I like baking, and gardening.”   
Riqu hums, nodding. “Is there technology in District 3 that helps with that?” Haylie says something like ‘Of course there is, I can’t do it  _ all. _ ’ I stop listening, finally understanding her angle. 

The next tributes talk honestly, at least as far as the Capitol is concerned, who would actually know. When it’s my turn, I stand up and walk calmly to the side stage. 

“Please welcome, District 5’s Fukaya Kerezaki!”

I walk on stage without applause. Sitting down, I pull my collar up, puffing up my chest.

“Before we begin, I have to compliment you on that jacket!”

“Oh, thank you Riqu,” I say deeply with a slight edge to my voice. 

“Well Fukaya, tell us a bit about yourself.”   
“I like archery, I’m a good runner, and I know all about electrifying my enemies.” I let a smile slowly spread across my face.

Riqu laughs. “I’m sure you do, coming from the technology district. Tell us, do you have a special girl back home? You look like all the girls would flock to you.”   
My heart tells me to act bashful, but that would betray my act. So instead, I say, “Not exactly, I’m not looking for a girl.” I turn to one of the cameras and wink into it. I smirk as the crowd gasps and cheers.

“Um, very well then..” Riqu trails off, looking awkward.  _ Guess the Capitol is no more accepting than the Districts. _

“Tell me Riqu, how are you on this fine night? I like your suit,” I say, dragging out the vowel in ‘suit’. Riqu looks uncomfortable, he shifts in his seat and slides a hand through his hair. 

“Uh, that’s all we have time for folks! Good luck in the arena.”

I grin as I stand from the couch. I don’t shake his hand, just walk off stage.

“What was that?” Haylie demands as I nearly run into her.

“I’ll explain later!” I call over my shoulder. Right now, I only have one thought,  _ Jeremya _ .

*

I sigh as I bury my head in his chest.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says into my ear. 

“I do, I love you too,” Jeremya’s hand strokes my hair, holding me close to him. A tear runs down my cheeks, leaving a wet trail behind it.

“What’s wrong baby?” 

“I-I don’t know,” I hiccup, wiping my eyes.

“It’ll be okay Fukaya, I’ve got you,” he soothes. I can’t help it, a sob wrenches itself out of me.

“I-It’s just, th-the games are tomo-rrow, a-and, what if I don’t make it?”

Jeremya’s hand moves from my hair to stroke my face. He tilts my head up and gently presses his lips to mine. I sigh into it, relaxing in his hold. 

“It will be fine baby, whatever happens, I’m yours.”

We spend the night like that, me curled against him, him whispering soothing things in my ears until we both fall asleep.

*

“What do you mean you didn’t watch the scores?” Aryxa says to me incredulously.

“I just didn’t, I was with Jeremya,” I shrug. Aryxa shakes their head.

“You’re lucky I took notes 5.”

“You took notes! Awesome, I forgot everything,” Haylie says, running up to us. “Oh–” her forehead creases “–Don’t pay attention to Trishiya’s score, they penalised her.”

After Aryxa’s exclamations of why, I remember something.

“The train, she came late, the Peacekeepers said something about being penalised.”

Haylie nods thoughtfully.    
“Well, let’s look at my notes fast, otherwise we’ll run out of time. The games begin after breakfast.”

*

I got a 7. Aryxa got an 8. Haylie got a 4. I shake my head at her glittering eyes. “Nice con. Make them think your harmless.”

She laughs. “Yeah, it won’t last long once we’re in there.”

“You can say that again. Harmless is the last word I would use to describe you.” Aryxa says. “Well, maybe before manly.”

Haylie throws a pencil at him. “How dare you? Calling me unmanly!” she jokingly exclaims. We all laugh, revelling in the lack of tension that we’ve had to deal with since arriving.

“Attention all tributes, make your way to the breakfast hall.” Or not.

*

Breakfast looks delightful. I wouldn’t know how it tastes, I can’t eat anything without almost throwing up. Jeremya sits next to me, holding me close to him. He keeps whispering to me, telling me how everything will be okay. It doesn’t help, but it doesn’t make it worse so I let him feel like he’s helping. Towards the end of breakfast I manage to eat a bowl of plain cereal.  _ Better than nothing.  _

“It’s time to go Fukaya, I’ll meet you in the room okay?” Jeremya says gently. I nod and attempt to drink another glass of water. He strokes my back before walking from the room. I sigh and put the glass down.

“Are you okay?” Aryxa asks me quietly. I smile softly at them.

“No, but I’ll probably die today so..” I trail off and shrug.

“Fair point, but if you need to talk, you can alright.”

This time I really smile at them. “Thanks, but I have Jeremya for that.”   
“Not in the arena,” they instantly fire back. I have to agree with that logic.

“Well, I have to get going, Jeremya’s waiting for me.”

“Okay Fukaya, see you later,” Haylie says gently. Aryxa claps me on the back before letting me leave the room.

*

The suit Klio and Jeremya put me in is a rich blue, highlighting my eyes. I raise my arms above my head, I have full range of motion. 

“You look handsome baby,” Jeremya drawls, hugging me from behind. I laugh.

“I always do.”

Klio nods thoughtfully. “Well, this just proves it. The Head Games Keeper gave all the tributes these suits.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And I still look ravishing? Well then,” I say jokingly, surveying myself in the mirror again. Jeremya grins at me.

“You really do.”

*

“Step onto the ladder and await further instructions,” the loud speaker voice says. I turn to Jeremya and Klio.

“Thank you, for everything,” I say earnestly. They only smile and shake their heads.

“It was the least we could do.”   
I laugh. “No it wasn’t, you guys did way more than ‘the least’.” Klio smiles.

“You’re worth it.”   
I blush, heat staining my cheeks. Jeremya pulls me into him, kissing my head.

“Go on baby, knock ‘em dead.”

I grin at him, then let him press one more kiss to my lips. 

When I pull away, Klio has tears in her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry, it’ll be okay,” I say, walking over to her. I pull her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, just, be careful okay?”

“Of course.”

Then it’s time to go. I walk over to the ladder and start to climb up. I don’t get very far before my hands forcefully lock in place. I’m about to protest when the speaker goes off again.

“Waiting for test results, please be patient.”  _ I guess they have to make sure it’s me. _ I scoff at the thought.

The ladder moves up, pulling me with it. I wave goodbye to them before looking up. Above me is the ceiling of what I assume is a big hovercraft. 

When I get up I see six Peacekeepers making sure everyone is strapped in and sitting down. 

“Fukaya Kerezaki, please take your seat,” one of them says. I look to my right, seeing an empty seat labelled ‘District 5 Male’. I sigh when I see I’m sitting next to Trishiya.  _ Let’s hope the fly is short. _

“Well well well, look who it is. Tell me, how’s the bad boy act going?” Trish sneers. I try to ignore her.

“Hello? Have you gone deaf? All the applause getting to your hearing or something?” 

I snarl at her but remain silent. 

“Oh come on, I can’t get a rise out of the bad boy?”

I face away from her, sending a look to Aryxa and Haylie who are sitting opposite me. 

“No talking 5,” one of the Peacekeepers says. I smile to myself while Trish groans. She does fall silent though, so I’m thankful for that.

*

When the hovercraft lands, it’s in a meadow. 

“Walk to your platform, don’t get off it,” the Peacekeepers walk around instructing each individual tribute. I walk around the outskirts of the arena. No one can enter the actua arena, there’s a blue forcefield blocking entrance. There are outlines in front of where each tribute would enter their station. When I get to mine I hold my hand out under a scanner. 

“Place your right index finger in the slot,” says an automated voice. When I do what it says, there’s a sharp stinging in my finger. I withdraw it to see a drop of blood fall into a container. The door swings open, allowing me entry. I walk forward and the door shuts behind me. I walk down the narrow passage, forcefield walls on either side of me. My feet are just starting to ache when I reach the end. The forcefield walls disappear and I’m standing on my station.

*

“Hello and welcome to the first ever Hunger Games!” Riqu’s voice echoes through the meadow. We’ve been waiting for at least half an hour for  _ something  _ to happen, so his voice is for once, welcomed. This extra time has allowed me to analyse the meadow. There’s a golden cornucopia in the center, sheltering what looks to be backpacks. 

“30.”

“29.”

_ Well, there’s the countdown.  _ I’m very cautious not to move, my feet staying planted in place. I don’t want to find out what happens if we leave our stations. 

“16.”

“15.”

When Riqu’s voice starts to pronounce 12, someone moves.  The ground shakes the arena as the bomb goes off, blowing the District 4 boy apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Looking for a Beta, if anyone's interested please contact my Tumblr: DiamondPride or email me at diamondpridefanfic@gmail.com


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